


Play me like a love song

by Andithiel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A hot steaming dish of emotion with a side of porn, Blow Jobs, But a bit impatient, Draco is a lucky man, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is a Tease, Light Bondage, Like super light, M/M, Mentions of canonical childhood abuse, Nipple Licking, Or just the one, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Teasing, Three betas we ascend like women, a really long one, lots and lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 07:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andithiel/pseuds/Andithiel
Summary: Harry likes to tease, and Draco didn't mean to blurt out the L-word in a post orgasmic haze.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 50
Kudos: 605





	Play me like a love song

**Author's Note:**

> Set six months after [I'll never be your chosen one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774483), but it's not necessary to have read that to understand this one (but I highly encourage you to do so if you like angst and smut).
> 
> Thanks so much to my lovely beta team [Etalice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etalice/pseuds/Etalice), [Kristinabird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristinabird/pseuds/Kristinabird) and [Scarshavestories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarshavestories/pseuds/Scarshavestories) for helping me, for screaming at me and for accusing me of too many feelings in a pwp. I love you guys so much <3

It’s only when the mattress dips, startling Draco from his sleep, that he realises he’d dozed off while waiting for Harry to finish his Floo call with Hermione.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Harry mumbles, kissing him on his temple.

Draco stretches, the movement making the dressing gown he fell asleep in slide apart, and he notices with satisfaction that Harry’s eyes are travelling over his body, and he’s sucking his lower lip between his teeth.

“All well with the Granger-Weasleys?”

“Hmm?” Harry shakes himself, dragging his eyes up to Draco’s face, and Draco shifts to make the dressing gown open up even more. “Oh, er, yeah. Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Let me guess, Hermione was falling apart at the seams over starting her new position at the Department of International Magical Cooperation tomorrow?”

Harry snorts. “You know her too well, by now.” Straddling Draco’s hips, he leans forwards with one elbow on either side of Draco’s face, lightly brushing their noses against each other. “I only made her stop talking by saying that I needed to tend to my naked and needy boyfriend.”

There’s a surge of affection at Harry’s words, that he’s Harry’s _boyfriend_, the one Harry wants, the one who gets to go home with Harry after the tedious Ministry parties, the one who gets to see Harry when he lets his guard down. Trying to hide the fact that his throat is thick with emotion, Draco huffs.

“And who might this boyfriend be, seeing as I’m neither naked nor needy?” 

Harry straightens up, a challenging flash in his eyes.

“Really? Well, we’ll see about that now, won’t we?” he says, removing his glasses and yanking off his t-shirt, tossing them both carelessly to the side.

The sight of Harry’s naked torso still steals Draco’s breath from his lungs. He’s so unbelievably gorgeous. Granted, his muscles are not as toned as when he was an Auror, but there’s a softness about him now, a testament to their nights spent wrapped around each other on the couch, eating take-away straight out of the container (one thing Draco would previously have considered blasphemy, until he realised that less dishes meant more time to learn every part of Harry’s body and every spot that makes him go wild with want).

Leaning forwards again, Harry nuzzles Draco’s neck, sucking his earlobe into his mouth, the warm, wet feeling sending shivers of arousal through Draco’s entire body, straight to his cock.

“Do you like this?” Harry murmurs, his tongue tracing the shell of Draco’s ear. “I always love when you do it to me.”

Draco sucks in a breath, stifling a moan. “I’ve noticed.”

Harry chuckles, licking at the spot just behind Draco’s ear. It feels so good, and Draco turns his head to give Harry better access.

“D’you remember what you said to me, long ago, when I asked you about giving head?”

Draco knows exactly what Harry’s referring to, echoes of the past so close to the surface.

_“How do you do it?”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Doing… that, er... “_

_“Sucking cock?”_

_“Er, yeah... How… How do you make it look like you enjoy it?”_

_“I don’t ‘look like’ I’m enjoying it, Potter, I _am_ enjoying it.”_

Draco nods.

“Well, one thing you told me was how you _love_ that you can make a man a babbling mess with just your lips and tongue,” Harry says, returning to Draco’s earlobe, pulling it a little before letting go.

Draco draws a deep breath through his nose, letting it out slowly, swallowing. “Mhm.”

“And I thought, why only limit myself to your cock?” Harry whispers.

Draco lets out a shuddering breath, turning his head towards Harry, seeking his mouth. Harry meets him, kissing him hungrily, devouring him in the way that still makes Draco entirely breathless, the sheer want in the way Harry kisses him is so intoxicating.

“Well, I would hate to be the one to stop you from pursuing your goals,” Draco says when they finally break apart, and Harry chuckles again, peppering little kisses down towards Draco’s throat.

“Always so thoughtful,” he says, leaning on one elbow to look at Draco, hesitating for a second. “Mind if I tie you up, love?” he asks eventually. “Last time you were too eager for me to finish, and I really want to enjoy myself this time.”

Draco swallows, not sure if he wants to, but one look at Harry, at his eyes blown wide with lust, his bottom lip once again between his teeth, a slight crease on his forehead telling Draco that he’s worried he stepped over a line, makes him decide. He nods, and Harry looks relieved beyond measure, letting out a soft laugh and kissing Draco again, sweeter this time. There’s still so many ways that Harry kisses him that Draco’s not yet used to, even six months after they started calling this a relationship. 

Harry takes out his wand from his pocket and looks at Draco questioningly, leaving space for Draco to back out, but there isn’t a single doubt in Draco’s mind. He nods again, and Harry grabs his wrists in one hand, whispering “_Incarcerous_” and pointing the wand to Draco’s joined hands against the headboard. 

Draco studies the velvet ropes now holding his wrists together.

“Is this how you would tie up all your criminals, back in the day?”

The corners of Harry’s mouth tick up in a mischievous grin. 

“Well I wasn’t the most popular Auror for nothing.” He brushes his nose against Draco’s, giving him a feather light kiss on the lips. “You’ve tied me up enough times to know that the spell recognises intent as well. And I intend for you to have a good time, and to last a long time.” 

Draco turns his head, chasing Harry’s lips and Harry laughs softly, meeting Draco’s mouth. Then he grabs Draco’s wrists again, stretching his arms up above his head, placing his hands against the headboard.

“You’ll keep them here, won’t you, love?” he asks, a slight command to his voice, but mostly it sounds warm, asking Draco permission, if he’s within his comfort zone. Draco nods and Harry’s shoulders drop a fraction of a millimeter, making Draco realise he was genuinely worried. “I’ll make you feel so good, Draco,” Harry murmurs against his ear; the way his given name rolls off Harry’s tongue making Draco’s heart flutter, and he nods. 

“I know,” he breathes, closing his eyes against the sting of tears threatening to spill out.

Harry starts trailing light kisses along his jaw, nipping and licking along his jawline.

“Do you have any idea how incredible you smell, Draco?” Harry’s breath comes in tiny puffs as he speaks. “Right here,” he says when he reaches just below the angle of Draco’s jaw, “this spot right here, this is the essence of _you_.”

It tickles, and Draco wants to squirm away, but Harry’s words flow through him like honey, filling his capillaries with warmth, with love, and he lets out a sigh instead. Harry continues by kissing his way down Draco’s throat, along the tendons on his neck that are pulled tight as Draco presses his head against his pillow. Harry pauses at the dip of Draco’s throat, flicking the tip of his tongue out and chuckling at the gasp he elicits.

“You’re so wonderfully responsive, Draco, do you know that?”

Draco licks his lips. He wants to bring his hands down, grab Harry’s hair, run his fingers through the unruly strands, but he promised Harry he’d keep his hands in place, and so he shifts and pulls at his pillow instead.

Harry drapes himself over his torso, his skin so wonderfully smooth against Draco’s, and his erection is obvious even through his trousers as it presses against Draco’s stomach. He tries to surreptitiously roll his hips against Harry, seeking the friction he so desperately needs, because his cock is now fully hard. Harry chuckles again, the vibration of it reverberating through Draco’s chest, making his heart beat faster.

“So impatient,” Harry murmurs against his skin, nipping and sucking along Draco’s chest. “Don’t you know good things come to those who wait?”

“I do,” Draco says, licking his lips, trying to summon composure. “I think you would be the best example of that.”

Harry stops exploring Draco’s skin and lifts his head. Bright green eyes meet Draco’s; he’s squinting a little because he’s not wearing his glasses.

“No, I…,” Draco says, cursing his inability to shut up about their messy past, as if they needed a reminder right now that they used to hurt each other because they weren’t able to admit their feelings for so long. “I didn’t mean it like that, Harry. I meant… You’re the best thing I’ve had to wait for.”

Harry scoots up, stroking a thumb along Draco’s eyebrow, down his cheek, kissing him softly. Draco kisses him back, trying to pour all the love he feels for Harry into it, and it seems like it’s working because Harry relaxes, letting out a soft gust of breath.

“I’m happy you did wait, Draco,” Harry whispers, so low that Draco almost doesn’t catch it, his breath warm against Draco’s ear. “Let me show you how happy I am that you waited for me.”

Draco tries to hide his unease by scoffing “Sappy Gryffindor,” but then Harry’s hands come to rest on his sides, fingers digging into his back, thumbs rubbing in soothing circles along his ribs and the scoff becomes a whimper. 

Harry kisses his chest, making sure to stay away from his nipples. Draco lets out a frustrated sigh, pressing his shoulder blades down against the bed in the hope that Harry will take the hint. He does, but of course he uses it to tease Draco further, licking a broad stripe along his sternum. 

“Harry…,” he says, and it sounds so much needier than he expected.

“Mmm?” The lips against his ribcage are still nowhere near where he wants them to be.

Draco tries to reign in a huff but it escapes through his lips. “Harry,” he says again, a little more firmly this time.

Harry snickers, his teeth grazing Dracos’ skin, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. “You forgot to say the magic word.”

Draco scoffs. “Really?”

“Mmm. Really.” Harry rubs his thumbs on either side of Draco’s chest, still just barely not touching his nipples.

Apparently he wasn’t joking when he said he wanted to make Draco a babbling mess. Draco’s torn between asking for what he wants and not wanting to let Harry win, but then Harry flicks out his tongue infinitesimally quickly, the warmth of it brushing Draco’s areola, so sensitised by now, and for the first time Draco moans, so loudly it’s embarrassing.

“Harry, please,” he whispers.

Harry chuckles. “Good boy,” he says, closing his lips around one of Draco’s nipples and sucking lightly, making Draco moan again, even louder this time. “Was that so hard?”

Harry keeps licking and kissing until both Draco’s nipples are tight buds, nipping at them with his teeth, while he lets his hands slide up and down along Draco’s sides. Once again, Draco wants to grab Harry’s hair, but this time to press his head down to his cock where it strains against the elastic of his boxer briefs. But he knows the teasing will only continue even longer if he does, so he focuses all his willpower on keeping his arms in place.

Harry leaves his chest, sucking his way down Draco’s stomach and hiss body sings with the certainty that he’ll soon have Harry’s mouth around his cock, that he’ll soon be enveloped in that warm wetness. His skin is so sensitive after Harry’s treatment, his entire body feels like one giant erogenous zone, every touch from Harry going straight to his cock, making it twitch in appreciation and anticipation of what is to come. But he had not counted on Harry being this patient, as he’s usually always running in head first and never normally able to keep his composure for very long. He stops at Draco’s hipbone, his lips in the juncture between hip and abdomen, his nose just above the angle of the bone jutting out, small puffs of air tickling Draco’s skin. Then, he opens his mouth slightly, dragging his lower lip along the curve of Draco’s iliac bone, his fingers pulling down his pants the teensiest bit to gain access to more of the pelvis, but still with Draco’s cock firmly inside his underwear. 

“Oh, you know what, Draco? I think I take it back, what I said before.” Harry’s nose is in the crevice of Draco’s groin. “_This_ is where you smell most like you,” he says, inhaling deeply, making Draco almost lose his mind; the closeness of Harry’s mouth to his cock, the tickling of Harry’s breath against the sensitive skin there, mean even though he really doesn’t want to give in, he really doesn’t want to beg, he is too turned on not to.

“Harry, please.” It comes out as a whine, but he can’t be arsed to care about that.

“What?” Draco can feel Harry smiling against his skin.

“Please.”

“What do you need, Draco? You know I want to give it to you if you just ask me,” Harry says, so low that it’s barely audible, but Draco’s entire focus is on Harry and his mouth, and where he wants it to go.

“Harry, it’s —,” he says, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, it’s right there!” And as if on cue, his cock twitches, as if it’s offended that it’s being this neglected this way.

“What is?” Harry says, still feigning obliviousness, and Draco has a strong urge to slap him. Maybe that’s why Harry wanted to tie him up.

But he’s not ready to admit defeat yet, he won’t say that he desperately wants Harry’s mouth on his cock. “I thought you said you wanted to make me a babbling mess by just using your tongue and lips.”

Harry chuckles, low and guttural in his throat, the fucking _bastard_. “Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

Draco groans in frustration, but it comes out breathy, more like a moan, a desperate sound.

“Please, Harry,” he says again, pleading, begging.

“I’m glad you’re asking so nicely, but you still need to tell me what to do.”

“Please, Harry, _please_ just suck my cock.”

Harry has the audacity to chuckle again, and Draco wants to say something scathing, but then Harry hooks his thumbs under the elastic of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. Draco lifts his hips to aid him, his cock catching on the fabric and then finally springing free, bouncing on his stomach. 

“Oh, Draco,” Harry says, and the tone of his voice, laced with awe and deep affection, makes Draco look up. Harry is looking at him, mesmerised, as if he’s seeing Draco’s cock for the first time, like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “You have the most gorgeous cock, do you know that? I could stare at it for days.”

Draco thinks that this is probably what Harry is going to do. He’s not going to suck Draco off after all, he’s just going to talk about it and let Draco suffer, watching him go mad with desire. He plants one foot on the bed, shifting his hips in a futile attempt to get some sort of friction somewhere, even though his cock is now fully exposed with nothing to rub against. It’s torture having Harry so close but not close enough.

In one swift motion Harry pulls the underwear off Draco’s legs, settling himself between Draco’s thighs. But the teasing is apparently nowhere close to stopping, because instead of taking Draco’s cock in his mouth, he noses along the base of it, slowly circling his tongue against one of his balls, using his hands to keep Draco’s legs spread apart.

“So hard for me,” he murmurs before sucking lightly on one ball.

Draco pulls his hands down to cover his eyes, a sob escaping him.

“Please, Harry, I’m begging you, please…,” he whispers, too desperate to care that he’s sounding far too needy.

“Well, that’s all I ask for,” Harry says, licking a broad stripe all along the entire length of Draco’s cock, making Draco actually scream out loud in pleasure. If his hands were free, he would have fisted them in the sheets, but as it is, he presses them against his forehead, tilting his head back. “Like that, do you?” Harry’s voice sounds so innocent, but Draco knows he’s smirking.

“Yes,” Draco sobs.

“Want me to do it again?” Harry asks, his lips brushing the crown of Draco’s cock.

Draco nods frantically, forgetting that Harry probably can’t see it, but apparently he understands, or maybe Draco’s whole body is shaking with the vigour of his nodding, because Harry does it again, starting from the base and slowly working his way up, circling the already exposed glans with his tongue. Draco’s hips buck up of their own accord, and Harry places one hand on each side to hold him down.

“Still so impatient,” he says, but he must be too; Draco can hear the faintest strain to his voice, as if he has to concentrate to measure his voice. He doesn’t even punish Draco for being too eager by holding off any longer, but opens his mouth and swallows him, slowly, just the head first, and then takes Draco deeper and deeper, until he’s halfway down.

“Oh, that’s — Fuck!” Draco shouts. 

Harry grabs the base of Draco’s cock with one hand, pumping it while slowly bobbing his head, moaning around Draco, letting him know how much he’s enjoying this as well. Draco knows he won’t last long; his entire body is on fire, he’s finally getting sucked off by Harry, and Harry’s tongue is doing _sinful _things to him. He has to restrain himself from bringing his hands down and fisting them in Harry’s hair, so he arches his back, presses his head against the bed and grabs the headboard to keep still, Harry’s name chanting through his mind until he realises he’s saying it out loud, moaning. Harry uses his free hand to play with his balls, which are starting to draw up.

“Harry, oh _fuck_, I’m going to — I’m —” Draco pants. Harry makes a sound of approval, the sound vibrating around Draco’s cock, still deep in his mouth, and then Draco’s orgasm rips through him in wave after wave of white hot pleasure, his vision goes blurry, and Harry is swallowing, swallowing, until Draco is entirely spent, his breathing still coming in quick bursts as he comes down. 

Harry lets go of him, and Draco realises that his eyes are tightly shut. When he opens them to look down at Harry, the sight takes his breath away. Harry looks absolutely wrecked, his lips swollen and shiny with saliva and come, his pupils blown wide.

“_Harry_.” 

It’s a breath, a plea, and Harry scrambles up to him, surging forward, kissing him frantically, tasting of Draco’s come, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. Draco throws one leg over Harry’s hips, vaguely registering that Harry’s taken off his trousers some time when Draco was blissing out. Harry’s cock is still hard, lodging itself between Draco’s arse cheeks, and Harry starts rutting against him. Draco squeezes his eyes shut, concentrating on the spell, and then there’s the slickness of conjured lube easing Harry’s movements. Harry looks desperate, loving, as he strokes a strand of hair from Draco’s face, kissing him and then keeping his open mouth against Draco’s lips, panting into Draco’s mouth, his thrusts going erratic, his eyes closed in concentration. He’s the most beautiful thing Draco’s ever seen, and he’s _Draco’s_, all his, and Draco can’t stop the burst of emotion welling up inside him.

“Fuck, I love you, Harry,” Draco whispers. 

Harry gasps, snapping his eyes open, and then he’s coming, his cock pulsing its release between Draco’s thighs; he looks almost surprised, and that’s when Draco realises he hasn’t actually said it before. He’s meant to say it, he’s known it for quite some time now, but he certainly hadn’t planned on telling Harry like this, in a post orgasmic haze. 

His mind flashes to when Harry told him the first time; it had been a regular morning at Harry’s. Draco had been bustling around the kitchen, making breakfast, while Harry was showering. At first, he hadn’t spotted Harry standing in the doorway, watching him pouring tea and putting the right amount of sugar into Harry’s cup (four spoonfuls, an abomination if you ask Draco, a splash of milk is quite enough, thank you very much), but then he’d looked up and saw Harry smiling at him like a loon. He’d offered the cup silently to Harry, who had taken a sip, closed his eyes in satisfaction and sighed. Then, Harry had enveloped him in a tight embrace, kissed him, sweet, slow, and whispered “I love you, Draco”, and Draco had _melted_, but still been unable to say it back. But somehow, he knows, that was the moment he realised he loved Harry, as well.

Harry whimpers against his neck as Draco guides him through his orgasm, his hips jerking in tiny thrusts and then stilling. They lie like this for some time, quiet except for Harry’s panting breaths. Draco’s unsure what to say. Eventually, he feels the ropes loosening, and he flexes his hands, bringing one up to tangle in Harry’s hair and stroking the other one soothingly along his back. Harry is draped over his body, panting wetly against his throat, the weight of him grounding Draco, but after a while, Draco realises Harry isn’t panting, he’s sobbing. 

“Oh, Harry,” Draco says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I thought… Fuck, I thought you knew.” 

“I did,” Harry mumbles, sniffling. “I do. It’s just… it’s one thing knowing it, and another hearing it.” He slides off Draco slightly to lie on his side, his head still on Draco’s arm. His eyes are closed, and Draco strokes his cheek, moving his thumb in soothing circles against Harry’s stubble, hoping that Harry’s willing to open up. Harry draws a deep breath, keeping his eyes shut. “Growing up, I… no one ever told me they loved me. I’ve told you some of my childhood, but… it’s hard talking about all of it, because it was so bloody awful.”

Draco holds his breath, trying to tamp down the anger flaring up inside him when he thinks about Harry’s relatives. As flawed as his own parents are, they never left him with any doubt that he was deeply loved by both of them, both through words and actions. Even when he came out they gave him nothing but support, though he knew how disappointed his father was that there wouldn’t be an heir to carry on the Malfoy name.

But Harry’s childhood… He’s told Draco enough to let him know that he was treated in ways that no child should ever have to endure. And now his own guilt about how he himself treated Harry during their school years, along with the guilt of how much he had that Harry lacked, blends with the rage he’s feeling towards Harry’s aunt and uncle. 

“Later on,” Harry continues, his voice barely audible, making him sound so young, “I was told that my parents _had _loved me, but… I’ve never had someone say out loud that they loved me, you know, for me.” He sighs deeply, bringing up a hand to scrub at his eyes. “And I guess that’s partly my own fault, since I’ve been too scared to let anyone close. I mean, apart from Hermione and Ron, of course.”

It takes a while before Harry’s words, and the weight of them, settle in, but when they do, Draco’s heart skips a beat. It makes him immensely proud that he’s been allowed this close to Harry, that he’s allowed to see Harry vulnerable like this. But while Harry has decided to let Draco in and stopped hurting him to protect himself, Draco hasn’t returned the favour. He’s continued hurting Harry by assuming he knows how Draco feels.

Flexing his arm, Draco brings Harry closer, kissing him on the forehead. There’s a lump in his throat and he needs to clear it before he can speak properly.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I wish I had.”

Harry lets out a soft snort against his neck, the warm air tickling him. “It’s okay. I made you wait, too, remember?”

“You did,” Draco sighs, thinking that they’re not so unlike each other after all. He’s been so focused on how Harry made him wait because he was scared of coming out, but at the same time, Draco has made Harry wait for fear of admitting to both Harry and himself how deep his own feelings for Harry has become. Perhaps it’s time Draco showed a little courage as well.

He grabs Harry’s chin, tilting his head up to look at him. “Harry, I honestly meant what I said before: you’re the best thing I’ve had to wait for. And it was all worth it if it means I get to spend my days with you.”

Harry laughs softly, his eyes are so clear and open, tears still clinging to his lashes, but the joy is shining through, now. He brushes a hand through Draco’s hair, bringing them closer and he kisses him, tentative at first, but then more firmly, demanding, once again stealing Draco’s breath away. Draco presses himself closer, afraid to leave even the tiniest bit of air between them, afraid that Harry still doesn’t know how much Draco loves him.

When they break apart, Draco is the one with tears in his eyes. Harry looks at him, and Draco knows that Harry can’t see his tears without his glasses, but it’s like he knows they’re there anyway. He smiles, stroking his thumb under Draco’s eye and pressing his forehead against Draco’s.

“Sappy Slytherin,” he whispers, swallowing Draco’s huff of indignation with another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are lovely <3
> 
> I'm also [on tumblr](https://andithiel.tumblr.com//)! Come say hi!


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